


The Order of the Nephilim

by Humanity_Strongest_001, Levi__Acker_Gay



Category: Arc of a Scythe Series - Neal Shusterman, Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, Killing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:53:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24162376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humanity_Strongest_001/pseuds/Humanity_Strongest_001, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Levi__Acker_Gay/pseuds/Levi__Acker_Gay
Summary: Alec had never really fit in. He had always been on the outside, and it had only become more obvious the older he had gotten. However he had been chosen. Him, over everyone else. No one had been more surprised than him. It was a great honour to be chosen and accepted into The Order. They called themselves the nephilim, and were a very secretive organisation. The only thing known about him was their job: to kill the guilty.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood & Max Lightwood & Jace Wayland
Comments: 14
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoonlightBreeze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/gifts), [Nadja_Lee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadja_Lee/gifts).



> This is based on the book Scythe by Neal Shusterman. It's a great book, and I recommend you read it.  
> I'm sorry about any mistakes, if there are any, pleasy correct me in the comments

Alec had never really fit in. He had always been on the outside, and it had only become more obvious the older he had gotten. However he had been chosen. Him, over everyone else. No one had been more surprised than him. It was a great honour to be chosen and accepted into The Order. They called themselves the nephilim, and were a very secretive organisation. The only thing known about him was their job: to kill the guilty.

It had been a normal evening for Alec, before eating dinner, he had sat at the dining room table, working. His parents finishing off their work, his siblings completing their schoolwork. Alec had finally started to understand the whole solving for x and y thing. Algebra had never been his strong point.

Guests were frequent at the Lightwood's apartment, so when the door bell rang, there was no sense of foreboding - no forshadowing of death's shadow falling over their apartment. His mother had answered the door. Alec hadn't seen the visitor, as he was, at first hidden from view. Instead, what he saw was his mother's sudden immobile form, as if the her blood had solidified within her. "May I enter, Mrs Lightwood?" the visitor asked, his tone gave him away. Resonate and firm, as if he already knew what would happen. He probably did. Alec knew - they all knew - who it was before he even saw. It was a nephilim. By the angel, a nephilim had come to his home, he thought.

"Yes of course, come in," Maryse stepped aside to allow him entry. He stepped over the threshold, his soft boots making no sound on the marble floor. His black leather-like cloak, long enough to brush the floor, had no dirt on it. Nephilim were considerd the best of humanity - which was why they were chosenfor there job. Black for hunting throughthe night, thought Alec. For shadows and secrecy. Which is what the society of the nephilm were, a close guarded secret. With their fancy weapons that could burn a man where he stood with one blow, yet could also bring light - seraph blades.

Apart from many conspiracies, fake ideas, no one knew any thing about the nephilim. The unique style of nephilim robes made them easy to spot in public - which made them easy to avoid. The nephilim pulled of his hood to reveal neatly cut brown hair, a mournful face, red-cheeked from the chilly New York winter air, and dark eyes that seemed themselves to be weapons. As sharp as the blades they carry.

Alec stood, trying not to hyperventilate, trying not to let his knees buckle. The nephilim looked around, spotting Alec immediately, ignoring the rest of his siblings. He offered a smile that never reached his eyes. "Hello Alexander." The fact that the nephilim knew his name froze the blood in him, as it did to his mother when she opened the door. Alec remebered his manners, "good day, your honour." The nephilim just nodded in response. "I smelled something inviting in the hallway" the nephilim said, breathing in the aroma. "I see I was correct in thinking it came from this apartment."  
"Just slow-cooked beef bourguignon, your Honour. Nothing special." Until this moment, Alec had never known his mother to be so timid. "That's good" said the nephilim, "for I require nothing special."

He than sat at the table, and waited patiently for dinner to be served. Was it ridiculous to believe that the man was here for a meal and nothing more? After all, nephilim needed to eat somewhere. Customarily, restaurants never charged them for food, but that didn't mean a home-cooked meal was not more desirable. Rumours of nephilim that required their victims to prepare them a meal before being killed were widespread. Is that what was happening here? 

Whatever his intentions were, he kept them to himself, and they had no choice but to do as he asked - give him a meal, possibly before he killed one of them. No wonder people bent over backwards to please the nephilim in every way possible. Hope in the shadows of fear is a powerful motivator.

Maryse brought him something to drink at his request, and laboured to make sure tonight's meal was the best thingshe would ever cook. Maybe it would be the last thing she ever served. Alec banished the thought from his head.

Tonight their lives might rest on her cooking skills. Better her than Izzy, he thought, a small smile playing across his lips. As petrified as Alec was, he made sure to follow the man's conversation with his father. After introducing himself as Honourable Nephilim Aldertree, Alec could finally study the man without fear shooting down his spine. He seemed perhaps around his mid forties, and although his hair was still brown, his beard was still salt - and - pepper. Very much like his own father's hair and beard, thought Alec. It was rare for a nephilim to let themselves reach such an age before resetting - for the nephilim lived forever, until they killed themselves, there only way out, unlike the rest of them - to a more youthful self.  
The similarities between the talking men ended there. Whilst his father worked for the government, the other man-the stranger really-was above their law, and killed people. Granted that they only killed the guilty, it was still murder in Alec's opinion, no one deserved to die for a mistake they had made.

The nephilim followed their own law, seperate from the rest, better than the rest. They were above everyone else, because thy had been chosen by another nephilim.

Alec wondered how old he truly was. How long had he been charged with ending lives?


	2. Chapter 2

The invitation came to Alec in early January. It arrived by post - which was the first indication hat it was out of the ordinary. There were only three types of communications that arrived by post: packages, official business, or letters from the eccentric - the only types of people who still write letters. 

This appeared to be one of the third kind. "Well open it," Max said, more excited by the envelope than Alec was. It had beem handwritten.  
He tore the envelope open, and pulled out a card that was the same eggshell color as the envelope. He then read it to himself before reading it aloud. 

"The pleasure of your company is requested at the Grand Idris opere house, January ninth, seven p.m." There was no signature, no return address. There was however a single ticket in the envelope. "The opera?" said Max, "ew." Alec couldn't agree more. 

Jace muttered "who would think your company would be pleasurable," Alec glared at him.  
"Could it be some school event?" Maryse, his mother, asked.  
Alec shook his head, "If it was, it would say so."  
"Do you think you'll go?" asked Isabelle.  
Alec grunted in response, and left the room, annoyed by his own curiosity.  
"I'm nkt going" he called over his shoulder, knowing full well thay he would.

The Grand Idris opera wad one of several places where anyone who was anyone went to be seen. At any given performance, only half the patrons were there for the actual opera. The rest were there to participate in the great melodrama of social climbing and career advancements.

Even Alec, who moved in none of those circles and hated socialising, knew the drill.  
He wore the suit his father had brought for yhe previous year's homecoming, where Robert had expected him to take someone (probably Lydia), but he had never gone. 

Alec, until today, hadn't had any use for the suit. When he put it on, he was surprised to see that it fit him perfectly. He had grown in the year. 

He had wondered who gave him yhe ticket, but he couldn't guess his secret admirers identity. However there may be some fun to be had in the evening, pretending to be pretentious. 

Robert had insisted on dropping him off. He got out and his father drove off to make room for the limousines and Bentleys in the drop-off que.

He took a deep breath and went up the marble steps, feeling awkward anf out of place. Upon entering, he was not directed toward either the orchestra or the central staircase leading to the balcony.  
Instead, the usher looked at the ticket looked at him, looked at the ticket again, before calling a second usher to personally escort him. 

"What's all this about?" he asked quietly. His first thought was that it was a forged ticket, and he was being escorted to the exit. Perhaps it had been a joke after all, regret set in.

But then the usher broke his thoughts "A personal usher is customary for a box seat sir."  
Box seats, Alec recalled, were the ultimate in exclusivity. They were reserved for people too elite to sit among the masses. Normal people, like himself, couldn't afford them, and even if they could, weren't allowed access. 

As he followed the usher up the narrow steps on the left, Alec felt fear trickle down his spine. Who was waiting for him? He knew no one with that kind of money. What if it was a mistake? "Here we are!" the usher pulled back the curtain of the box, to reveal a boy his age already sitting there. The boy haf dark hair and golden skin. He stood up when he saw Alec, and he thought that the person before him was the most beautiful he haf ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and Kudos if you liked it. They're a great motivator.  
> If you want more comment and kudos as well :)


End file.
